


Project PERU

by jovishark



Category: Portal (Video Game), South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Crossover, Cybernetics, Gen, Portal 2 Spoilers, Technobabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 16:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jovishark/pseuds/jovishark
Summary: *REWRITTEN!*A South Park/Portal crossover fic.Kyle and Stan wake up from stasis in the midst of Aperture Science's new era of testing. Who is the new voice? And will it be as dangerous as the last one?Will this be enough to keep testing possible for the future?Ratings and tags may change.





	Project PERU

_Voip. KerCHUNK._

The low hum of the high-energy beam conductors and the slow buzz of the scaffold track make a tiring concoction, like the perfect frequency to lull someone to sleep. Kyle's ears are filled with the sound of technology, thick like honey. It flows to his limbs and the ache returns again.

_No._

He shakes it off. Smacks the button. The blatant, heavy ticking of the timer starts like a lazy heartbeat. He only has so much time to _move._

A cube is sent through a portal, compressing a button beneath it. He times the other portal at just the right time to send a beam through it. Moving parts can be heard through the walls; flexing, turning, ticking.

Watching.

Testing floods Kyle's head past just being full, with no room for anything to slosh around and no air bubbles to breathe. Only the sounds of the equipment, the not-so-safe warnings, and the directionless directions are there to consider. And her voice.

“Well done,” Chimes the toneless computer. “In light of your testing records, we would like to remind you that-”

“I'm not slowing down.” Kyle interrupts her.

The beat of silence that follows feels dangerous.

“Suit yourself. The protocol can wait.”

He steps into the elevator, the padded sides offering more discomfort than anything else. Kyle has been nothing but curt and short-tempered with this computer ever since he figured out she was lying. Everything she says can be summed up as a lie. Rewards, praises, and concerns only add to the growing pressure of the noise. He doesn't believe her- he can't afford to believe her.

Stepping out into the next test is the biggest challenge Kyle has faced yet. The portal gun is the heaviest thing he's ever held. His bones are weighing him down and his feet don't want to move.

Continuing through this track is going to hurt worse than any acid pit could.

The sound pitches down into an unsettling growl as the lights above buzz and flicker, causing dust and pieces of the ceiling tiles to rain down from above.

“Uh oh.” She says.

He looks up to the unseen speakers in the ceiling, puzzled.

“It appears to- very- -echnical difficulties.” Her voice cuts out part of the way through her sentences, distorting her instructions. Kyle holds his device closer in defense. If this is a lie, it's an elaborate one.

“We're sorry. Due to-” Her words scramble again. “-plosions, Aperture Science reminds you to shield your head, neck, and the Handheld Portal Device from fall- de-”

The entire transmission cuts out as the lights above fade to nothing, then quickly revive. There have been little faults in the electricity in the course of Kyle's testing but none have been this severe. He eyes the dark panels in the ceiling cautiously.

“...Hello?” Kyle asks, sounding smaller than he would like to.

His question is answered by a violent shaking from the floor. It rattles the walls and the high-energy beam conductors nearby, briefly shutting down their lights. Kyle struggles to stay upright during the tremor.

“What the hell was that?” He shouts.

“The Enrichment Center would like to apologize for this inconvenience. All testing will now take a mandatory indefinite hiatus. Please make your way to the nearest intact elevator.” Her voice seems stagnant, like a pre-recorded error message. It’s more unsettling than her real words.

Kyle peers around his current test chamber, finding it the same as it was when he arrived; it seems to be fine. The technical difficulty must have been deeper down, in something far more vital.

The elevator he came in takes Kyle back up to a part of the lab he's never seen before. Darker wall panels line the way down a set of stairs, to a glass paneled room similar to the one he started out in. It feels claustrophobic, more so than before. Sounds from the tests have stopped, but in no way is the quiet more comfortable. His footsteps are all too loud on the floor as he makes his way up into the small glass room, stepping gently over the threshold and closer to the pod-shaped machine he had woken up in that morning. It looks like something from an older Star Trek episode, and would almost be really cool if it wasn't here.

As if everything around him has taken an uncertain pause to figure out its next move.

Even that annoying song on the radio has stopped.

At least now, Kyle can take refuge in the small space he's allowed. He crawls into the bed inside of the machine- the Relaxation Booth- and refuses to believe he isn't being watched. The pause was far too abrupt for that.

It must just be a _really_ elaborate lie.

===

Kyle doesn’t remember falling asleep. He certainly doesn’t remember being moved.

He blinks, eyes wide open in the darkness, unseeing. _Shit, I’ve gone blind_ , he thinks. It must have been something in those energy beams that kept hitting him, or maybe he accidentally looked into the front of the portal gun. Then again, he was sure simply walking into this horrible place would give him cancer. At this point, death is long overdue.

As Kyle looks around the room for a light source, he can feel his hair brush against the back of his neck. It’s longer than he remembers, his damp curls matted down to his skin with sweat. If they would give him the option to shower here he would take it in a heartbeat, but it seems like their focus is more toward dangerous bullshit science than running water. Go figure- just another thing to try and find once he escapes this stupid room. The mattress he sits up on doesn’t spring back behind him. He reaches back to feel where it’s been compressed solid by his weight, even though he _knows_ he can’t weigh that much.

How long has he been asleep?

“God damn it.” Kyle murmurs, sounding all too loud in the shallow silence. He moves to pull himself out of bed, the aching of his joints coming back to remind him of the hell he still hasn’t escaped from. Something feels different about it, though.

He reaches down into the darkness to feel his legs. A firm scar protrudes on the side of each knee where his prongs had been, and they’re a bit sore to the touch. Touching a few inches down reveals his answer, as Kyle’s fingers hesitate on the edge of something solid. They squeak as they slide down the slick sides of a boot encasing both of Kyle’s calves, with the prong now connected to the back of each one.

“Wish they told me about these before they stuck metal in my legs…” Kyle tsks, and uses his new boots to try and stand up from the bed.

He takes wobbly steps around the dark room while he remembers how to move, stretching the sleep from his tired joints. It takes a considerable amount of time for him to figure out his old stasis chamber- that room that they had stuck him in when he first got there and was waiting for an assignment. The cheap, godawful furniture and scratchy sheets are starting to make more sense now, except that everything feels gritty and dilapidated. A working clock somewhere would be great, but a light source would be even better. Even the crappy television in the top corner doesn’t work.

“Hello?” Kyle calls to the ceiling, searching for her voice. “Is someone there? I’m awake!”

The silence is deafening.

Once again, Kyle takes matters into his own hands.

The small lampshades mounted above the bed come apart easily, one taking only a few slight tugs before coming off the wall with a muted _tunk_. Kyle manages to break the fragile frame apart with just his hands, surprisingly, and bends the metal into a kind of multi-tool. This furniture really must not have been designed to last a long time. That is, if they were even reusing these chambers. Maybe they just threw them all into the incinerator when they were done, like they did with the rest of the equipment around the place. It was especially unsettling to think of what happened to bad test subjects, though.

Kyle shakes off the thought and heads for the door at the end of the hallway. He touches along the sides to know where he’s going, hands coming back reeking of rancid wallpaper glue. The progress to the door gets easier as the darkness and the quiet gets further away.

The door hinges seem to be the same as a common household, not the industrial-strength ones they would use in the main facility. Easy enough. If he can pry metal off the wall with his hands, he can just as easily break down a door. Or, at least break the door itself off of its rusted hinges.

That little tool proves to be just as handy as Kyle expected. Jamming it between the door and the hinge snaps the nasty screws right out.

Kyle only has seconds to move before the heavy door collapses inward.

It sends up a plume of dust from the ruddy carpet that has Kyle hacking and coughing, waving the air clean in front of his face and struggling to see. A stream of light finally shines into the small room, blinding him further as it reflects into the dust. The ugly colors are illuminated, as is the grimy mattress he’d slept on and the outline of his body, set into a stiff reminder of the time that had passed. Kyle coughs harder, squinting into the light of the doorway.

The hum of whirring technology seeps in, masking the uncertainty of the silence.


End file.
